That Special Time In Paris
This is a memoir of a special trip to Europe I took between my junior and senior years in high school. Nearly everything in it really happened, including the descriptions of the place I stayed in in Paris and the sleeping and bathing arrangements there, as well as the other guys I shared them with. The made up parts are the sexy parts you probably really want to read. I put them in to spice things up, and I think they're really hot. They didn't happen, but they should have. Real sexy stuff more than likely did go on on that trip, but not to me.
I spent most of the summer I was 17 in 1974 on a six week long European study tour. It was a great trip during which I learned a lot about history, art, and culture, as well as an awful lot about other people, both good and bad. I had led a sheltered childhood with loving parents who raised me in a religious household in a small Southern town. I was very bright but didn't know much about the world. When my 11th grade English teacher announced she was recruiting students to go on a European trip I was very excited because I really wanted to travel and I really enjoyed her as a teacher. Looking back on it I think my parents must have been very uneasy about letting me go, especially with her, but eventually they decided to trust my intelligence and good judgment and hope for the best. They also knew that I had little knowledge about the way other people lived and acted, and that it would be a good idea for me to know more about that before I entered college and then adulthood.
As it turned out one girl a year younger than me and I were the only students from my high school who signed up to go. There was another girl a year younger and then two other girls a year older than me whose families all knew the teacher, who lived in a larger city near my small town, who also signed up to go. Then the study tour company organizing the trip added a boy from another Southern state who had signed up to go but didn't have a teacher sponsor to our specific little group. Our group was going to fly to New York and there meet up with about 60 other students and their teacher/supervisors at JFK airport and fly off to our first stop, London, on a chartered jet with several hundred other students and teachers traveling with the same company.
I was nervous and very shy about traveling with strangers but I was also really excited about going. My parents remained leery about sending me but again, were willing to trust my good judgment. The night we left everyone gathered at the airport to see us off. My mother pulled me aside and told me that I was going to be around a lot of people and that they were going to be different from what I was used to, but to remember who I was and what I knew was right. So I told my parents and sister goodbye and then boarded the plane to New York. It was scary, particularly as the teacher was fouler mouthed than I had ever heard her before, and she and the three girls she knew were all drinking alcohol. The girls weren't of legal age but it was the mid 1970s and attitudes about that were looser then. I was not a drinker and didn't care for it, in fact had never been around it, so that took some getting used to. We took the red eye flight to JFK, arrived early in the morning, then took a taxi into Manhattan and spent a lot of the day walking up and down Fifth Avenue seeing the sights. We returned to the airport that afternoon where hundreds of kids and adults were gathering, and met up with other members of the specific tour group we were going to be traveling with. The boy who had been assigned to our group met us there. His name was Charles, and he was a pleasant, good looking fellow a couple of months older than me. He was also shy and soft spoken, so I figured we would get along well.
The plane was packed full and very noisy. Again there was a lot of drinking, including by a lot of underage kids whom no one seemed too concerned about. I minded my own business, met and made a few friends among the group we were going to travel with, spent some time talking to Charles especially since we would inevitably be spending a lot of time with each other, and tried to get some sleep. Naturally everyone was very jet lagged by the next morning when we landed at Gatwick.. At least I had the advantage of not being hung over like a lot of the kids and their teachers. We made it off the plane, went through Customs, and then finally our group boarded two buses to be taken to our first stop, a college outside of London where we would be staying while in England.
By this time I was beginning to get an idea of who all the other kids and their teachers were. Besides my little group of Southerners there was a large group of boys who all attended a Catholic military school in another Southern state, their teacher and his wife, along with some girls from that same city who, like Charles in my group, had signed up to go on the trip without having a teacher counselor of their own. There were other kids along from the Midwest and a good sized group of Californians, mostly one family with seven kids ranging in age from 19 to 10 who were traveling with both parents, and they were all Catholic as well. Until then I had never known any Catholics, and there were also several Jewish kids, and that was also new to me. Mostly everyone was pretty friendly and nice, but there were some wild sorts along too. The teacher counselors were a motley group as well, mostly fairly young and not all that concerned about whether drinking laws or other legal niceties were strictly followed. I had to get used to all the drinking. I refused to drink myself, which made me stand out and seem weird to the others, but I was independent and determined enough to stand my ground, a trait which has lasted all my life and which has kept me out of a lot of trouble over the years.
I was and am very bright, and I was probably one of if not the most intellectual kids on that trip. I loved history and already knew a lot about British and European history. There were a few other kids, including a couple of girls with whom I became good friends, who were also on my intelligence level, but most of the other kids were good, average to above average types who got along well with everyone. A couple of the boys from the Catholic military school already had serious drinking and drug problems, but mostly everyone else was, if not teetotal, at least temperate in their alcohol consumption. Some of the teacher counselors seemed to have issues with substance abuse as well, including the teacher from my school, but it was something you just learned to ignore as best you could. Sexually speaking there was some stuff happening as well, probably not as much as rumors among the guys I heard it from had it, but nevertheless some of the girls and older guys got reputations for being ready to put out. Some of the teacher counselors weren't particularly moral, either, though I hoped then and still hope now that the rumors about some of their behavior with the students were just that, rumors.
The trip was a lot of fun and very busy. It was as it was advertised, a study tour, and we had teachers along who doubled as guides. They would hold lectures to tell us about what we were going to be seeing, and we all had written assignments and reports to make. We would leave our lodgings early in the mornings and usually be gone all day taking buses to see sites. I really enjoyed seeing London and other parts of England, and then sailing on an overnight ferry to Denmark where we spent some time on the outskirts of Copenhagen touring that city and the surrounding area. Then we took an overnight train that went through Germany and Belgium into France, arriving in Paris the next morning. That's where some really special stuff happened with me and some of the other boys on the trip, as you'll soon see.
Up until now we had stayed on college campuses in England and Denmark where we were lodged in single rooms with baths attached. Of course on the ferry and the train we had shared quarters, but we didn't change out of our day clothes during the nights either time. Paris was a different story. Most of our group was lodged in a large student hostel, but there wasn't room for all of us there, so my subgroup and the subgroup which included the boys from the Catholic military school and part of another subgroup were all sent to what was called the "Annexe," an old hotel on a side street near the hostel. Things were pretty basic there. There were eight boys from the Catholic school and then Charles and me from our sub group, so we were all assigned to share one big room on the first floor (it had originally been the hotel dining room) that was filled with ten cots, with little partitions between them to make a pretense of some privacy. There was a large restroom next to that room, with about five toilets in open stalls and a long trough type urinal. The only shower facilities were upstairs, where there was one big shower room with nozzles sticking out from the walls with no partitions or curtains. Also upstairs was another large room where the four girls from my subgroup and the three or four girls who were in the subgroup with the Catholic school guys were lodged, another restroom, and a couple of smaller rooms with private baths. My teacher-counselor had one and the Catholic school teacher and his wife took the other.
Since bathing facilities and space in general were limited the teacher counselors got together and planned a schedule. We boys from downstairs were informed that our time in the showers was strictly limited to thirty minutes at 6:30 in the mornings and that we had to get in there and wash up fast and then be back downstairs before the girls were allowed their turn. The teacher counselors would be very watchful. (Later that year, in the fall when we were back in school in Georgia, my teacher told me that she had spent most of the trip worried sick that the two eighteen year old girls would come back home pregnant. Those girls weren't really interested in any of the boys on the trip, what they were after were some of the male European guides and other foreign guys we'd meet while traveling.)
The ten of us who were to share that large room were quite an assortment. I was one of the five oldest guys in the room, but due to how my birthday fell I was the youngest of the five. The oldest of us all was Randy, who was 18 and had just graduated from that Catholic school. He was a nice guy, tall and dark haired, a natural leader who had been the head cadet at the school his senior year. Then there were the other 17 year olds, starting with Carey, who was the incoming head cadet for his senior year that would start that fall. He was another mature and cool headed fellow, a bit shorter than the norm but with an air that made him leadership potential. He had longish brown hair with sideburns, which was pretty racy for a guy from a conservative school like that in those days. The other guys from the military school treated Randy and Carey both pretty respectfully, and while Charles and I didn't come from that school background we instinctively liked them as well and looked up to them. Joe was another 17 year old from that school, also tall and dark haired and a bit paler skinned than Randy and Carey, a nice friendly and a bit goofy guy. Then there was my group mate Charles, who was medium height with blond hair and bright blue eyes. The girls on the trip all thought he was really cute and he came in for some teasing because of that, but he handled it well. Then there was me, tall, skinny, a little awkward, dark haired and eyed with pale skin, smart but shy.
The other five guys in the room were all from the Catholic school and all 15 or 16. Bobby and Chip were the two boys with the substance abuse issues. They spent a lot of time drinking, and rumor had it that they had bought some pot from some of the students at the British university we had stayed at and smoked it. I don't know if that was true but it was believable. It was a shame because they were both good looking guys and pretty smart, too, but their issues were taking control of them. Jesse was the only Black guy on the trip, a very artistic and talented guy who was also quite handsome. And Greg and Patrick were both decent and handsome fellows with good minds and friendly outlooks. Greg was dark haired and probably the shortest of the ten of us, while Patrick was a little taller and fairer skinned with dark blond hair.
So we arrived in Paris and settled in during the afternoon (it was Bastille Day, as I recall) and the group of us in the Annexe walked up to the main building to eat dinner and have one of our lecture meetings on what we were going to see in Paris over the next week. After that was over it was dark, and the Catholic school group walked back to the Annexe, but my teacher-counselor held her group back for some extra talk and instructions. So by the time our group made its way back to the Annexe the other guys had been there for some time, and it was getting pretty late in the evening.
Charles and I walked into the room we shared with the others, which was loud and active. The other eight fellows had already gotten ready to hit the hay by stripping down to their undershorts. As I said earlier until now we had had private sleeping quarters and I had slept in pajamas as was my usual custom, but when I saw what the others were planning to sleep in I decided to go along because it sounded like fun. Charles and I took off our outer clothes and walked around in our shorts like the others. I, like Charles and most of the others, wore white jockey type shorts. Carey wore boxer shorts which added to his air of authority, but he was the only one who did that. The other guys, being from an all boys school, were naturally curious about the girls on the trip, and after Charles and I stripped down to our underwear the other guys wanted to talk about the girls who were in our subgroup, especially the two older ones who were obviously "experienced." Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) we couldn't tell them much because they had made it clear that they considered us too young for them. But even so there was plenty of guy talk and laughter and male bonding going on between all of us, nothing overtly sexual but lots of insinuating stuff.
The Catholic school teacher counselor came down to the room sometime shortly before midnight and warned us that we had a long day ahead of us and to hit the hay. He was hardly what you'd expect from the phrase "Catholic military school teacher." He was young with long hair to his shoulders, parted in the middle, with a sort of dazed look much of the time which probably indicated some substance abuse issues of his own. The guys who were with him all said he wasn't much use as a teacher but that he was patient and not at all strict. His wife who was traveling with him actually handled more of the discipline issues for that sub group, as a matter of fact.
So as we were getting ready to go to bed Randy and Carey called Charles and me over to one side. They told us that all the guys in their group had agreed to start up what was evidently a tradition at their school. A tradition that took place in the school showers and that involved some fun activity. A circle jerk, in other words. That term was a new one to me and possibly to Charles as well, but it was one we both found intriguing. Carey finished up with "Just to let you know that'll be going on tomorrow morning in the showers, so if you're thinking of jerking off tonight, you might as well wait." The other guys were keeping an eye on the conversation between the four of us, and they chuckled to see Charles and my expressions, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.
Now as it happened I had not masturbated at all since the beginning of the trip. There had been too much excitement and too much going on and very little private time, and with all the new experiences and seeing new things and meeting new people I really hadn't felt the urge to do so. Of course I don't know about Charles since I hadn't roomed with him before, but my guess is that if he had jerked off at all on the trip, it hadn't been often. That also seemed to be the case with the rest of the guys, all of whom seemed highly excited.
So after hearing all that and realizing the implications we all had to go to bed. I know my penis had taken on some weight what with all the joking around and especially after my "conference" with Randy and Carey, and Charles' shorts also looked a little fuller than they had earlier, as did those of most of the other guys as we rolled into bed and the lights went out.
You'd think that what we'd just heard would have kept us from sleeping, but being tired after a long day and after spending the night before trying but failing to sleep much on the train, we were all pretty exhausted and fell asleep fairly quickly. There was some snoring and one or two of the guys were sleep talkers, but all in all it was a good night.
We were jogged awake by a loud bell and the over head lights coming on early the next morning. Knowing that our shower time was coming up we scrambled out of bed. I saw that the other guys were pulling off their shorts and wrapping their towels around their middles, so I did the same. We left the room and trooped into the next door restroom where we jostled for room at the long trough urinal, taking off our towels and draping them on our shoulders while we emptied our bladders. That was fun, reminiscent for me of PE classes at my high school where there was a similar urinal in the gym showers. It was another bonding experience to be naked and standing pissing beside other pissing naked guys. After we took care of our bladders we trooped upstairs to the shower room, towels back around our waists and with some manly joshing and kidding around.
The shower room was large with ornate tile work, nozzles around the walls on all four sides with drains underneath, and a larger drain in the center of the room. We all took places under the nozzles and turned on the water, which ran first cold, then hot, then gradually settled down somewhere in the middle. I soaped and shampooed, standing by Charles on one side and Greg on the other. The first few minutes were pretty basic and devoted to washing and cleaning on your own, with some loud talking as well. But then, with our hygiene issues taken care of, the fun part began in earnest. I noticed Greg and some of the other guys had stepped away from their showers, leaving them on. I looked over at Charles and we stepped away too, joining the others in an irregular circle around the larger central drain. In preparation for what was to come everyone's dicks were lengthening and pumping themselves upright. I could feel mine doing the same thing. It was embarrassing but fun, too, with everyone watching everyone else. It was enjoyable to see other guys' equipment, and to see their eyes on your crotch in turn gave me, and probably everyone else, some nice tingles.
We were ten healthy young teenagers. No one was overweight and everyone was well along with adolescence, meaning we all had hairy crotches and developed penises that looked more than capable of delivering sperm to vaginas or, in this case, to the floor of the bathroom. Being 17 I was one of the hairier guys, with a good covering over my chest and abdomen, with a hairy crotch and thighs and legs to match. Randy and the other 17 year olds were fairly hairy as well, though Charles' was blond and didn't show up very well. The 15 and 16 year olds had less, though Jesse, Greg, and Chip all showed promise of hairy chests in their near futures. Because the Catholic school guys were all heavily athletically trained they had good tight bodies that were well defined in their chests and abdomens. I could see quite a few of their asses and those were tight as well. Neither Charles nor I was as physically fit, but we were in pretty decent shape nevertheless with some muscle tone, even though neither of us could have been mistaken for athletes. The other big difference between Charles and me and the Catholic guys was that several of them wore crosses or medallions with saints' pictures around their necks. That was new to me but it didn't make much difference.
It was interesting to see the different penises. At my high school back home I was almost unique in the school by being one of the few circumcised males, and that had caused me a fair amount of confusion in the gym showers, especially because neither my parents nor my doctors had ever bothered to explain to me that I was indeed circumcised, or what being circumcised actually meant. All I knew was that my penis looked different from the other guys' in my gym classes. They all had extra skin on their dicks that I didn't have, and my glans was fully exposed whereas theirs' were usually covered. This had puzzled me for several years, but since I had stopped taking PE after my sophomore year it had been over a year since I had showered with anyone else. Now I was reminded once again that my penis was different from some other penises. I was relieved, however, as I stroked myself and looked at everyone else stroking themselves, to see that quite a few of the other guys had the same kind of dick I did. It was a relief to know I wasn't unique in the world for the first time, and it made jerking and stroking even more pleasurable. I really can't remember who was the winner in the penis size contest, though I do know it wasn't me. Randy was pretty dominant and so were Joe and Bobby, but no one pulled out measuring tape or anything so the final winner was left up in the air. Everyone's penis worked well and did the jobs of being urine and sperm shooters without problems, and that was the important thing.
Being in a circle jerk with guys who were used to the process was fun and instructive. As we stood in a rough semi-circle working away we panted and moaned and some of us muttered some profanity. Occasionally someone reached over and touched another guy's shaft or head, and he then got felt back in return. Joe did that to me, briefly, and I returned the favor, and Charles and I also exchanged a stroke or two. It didn't take long before all the stroking had its desired effect. I don't remember who shot first but it was one of the younger guys, maybe Bobby or Jesse, but whoever it was was the catalyst for the rest of us. When I came it was a huge surge of several shots (remember I hadn't relieved myself sexually in nearly three weeks) that cause some laughter and applause from some of the others. As a guy finished shooting and began to relax he'd step back, slap his neighboring asses and anyone else's that he wanted to, then grabbed his towel and began to dry off. That was another new, and fun experience for me. I made sure I gave Charles, Greg, and Randy good slaps, and I know I got some from Joe, Jesse, and Chip at least.
Carey was the last guy to shoot, which seemed fitting since he was head cadet, and after he did he grabbed one of the nozzles and aimed it at the center so that all the pools of white juice would be sure to wash down the drain. We were all drying off and talking loudly about how good we felt when the male teacher stuck his head in the door and told us to clear out in five minutes. We wrapped our towels around waists and trooped back downstairs, laughing and carrying on, and went about the process of dressing. The post-ejaculation need to urinate hit and our first stop was back in the restroom for the urinal trough. Most of us visited one of the toilet stalls as well to take care of shitting too. Those of us who were shaving regularly grabbed our gear from the room and took it into the restroom, where there were several sinks with mirrors. At home I used an electric shaver, but because of the differences in current in Europe I had brought a safety razor and soap with me from home. I shaved that morning knowing that I probably wouldn't have to for another couple of days. The other older guys were daily or near daily shavers too, and while we were in Paris all using that restroom one or two of the younger guys also shaved once or twice.
We got dressed and spent some more time in our room waiting for the girls to finish up. We could hear the showers running again upstairs and that led to some ribald commentary about what they didn't know had gone on earlier up there. Finally the girls and the adults came trooping downstairs and we all walked out in the early Paris morning to head up to the main building for breakfast and another busy day.
So that was the first morning in Paris and it went very, very, well indeed. The ten of us guys split up in our sub groups and spent the day riding tour buses being taken to Notre Dame and the other major tourist places, then we had a walking tour of some of the older Parisian neighborhoods, then a full group meeting where we had some lessons about other things we were going to be seeing in Paris, then had dinner and after that returned to our hotel. The camaraderie amongst the ten of us was pretty strong now that we had all seen each other in our most erotic states, and we stripped down to our shorts and hung about for a couple of hours or so again until the Catholic teacher counselor stuck his head in to warn us to get to bed. We talked a lot about our schools. Charles and I being from public coed high schools had had very different experiences from the Catholic school guys. I could tell that their curriculum was tougher than mine had been, and I felt a little inferior and jealous, because being challenged academically was not something I had ever experienced in my schools. This was many years before the scandals about sex abuse by Catholic priests broke wide open. None of the guys from that school ever let on that anything of the sort had happened to them, that's all I can say.
The next morning the routine was the same and just as exciting and we finished up our showers with another circle jerk. We circulated amongst each other and traded dick feels, ass slaps, nipple pinches, and other fun stuff once again. The day itself went the same way as well and we stayed busy until that evening, when we had some more guy time in our room in our shorts.
But the third morning in Paris something changed. Apparently, even though we had all kept our mouths shut about our little post-shower activity, some of the adults had caught on. When we all made our towel wearing march upstairs to the showers we were startled to see that the Catholic school teacher counselor came in the room after us with his own towel on. Without a word he took it off and started one of the showers on one side of the room. This put a kink in our plans and we settled down to showering in a much quieter atmosphere than the preceding two mornings. It was a more crowded atmosphere, too, since no one wanted to be close to the teacher so his side of the room was empty except for him. The teacher said nothing, just washed and shampooed himself, but he stayed in there with us the whole time we were there. Naturally we couldn't bring ourselves to do our circle jerk with an adult present, even one as young and incompetent as the guy had shown himself to be, so when we finished up and dried off we just wrapped our towels around ourselves and headed back downstairs, grumbling a little among ourselves.
So the rest of that day was a little less relaxed and spirited now that the sexual relief we had gotten accustomed to over the past two days was denied to us. We continued to stay busy but we missed our morning fun time a lot. When evening came and we were back in the room we stripped down as usual to our shorts and hung about until the teacher counselor once again stuck his head in to tell us lights out. Lights were out, but something different went on afterwards.
After we were officially supposed to be asleep in the dark room I was soon aware of some movements around the room, accompanied by whispering and snickers. I was already in bed and stretched out, but not yet asleep. While I was listening to the odd activities and wondering what was going on Charles suddenly appeared at my bedside. In the dark I could see that he was naked, holding his shorts in one hand. Moreover, I could also see that he was hard. "Sit up!" he whispered. I did so, and he sat down beside me on my bed, snapping the elastic of my shorts as he did so. "Take those off ," he said, and I caught on at last to what all the activity was about. I slipped my shorts off and dropped them on the floor, next to where Charles had dropped his, and we sat and gave each other a good feel up, massaging our chests, thighs, and finally our genitals, leading to an exchange of strokes and jacking, sitting close enough to each other that our legs and arms rubbed against each other. From what we could hear elsewhere in the rook similar things were going on with the others. It didn't take long before we both were shooting. We took tissues and cleaned ourselves up, then headed to the restroom for a quick piss. Several of the other guys were already in there doing the same thing.
The next day was a repeat of the third. Once again the Catholic school teacher counselor joined us in the showers, effectively putting a stop to our morning enjoyment, and once again we had a busy day. That evening the same thing happened: after lights out there was more visiting and mutual masturbation. This time I was a bit more proactive. While I liked Charles a lot and while he had demonstrated that he was a good jerk buddy, I wanted a little variety. Apparently so did he, so there were no hard feelings (though plenty of hard dicks.) I took my shorts off and walked around the room, where shadowy figures were close together in various combinations. Eventually I ended up with Joe and had a good time with him, joined half way through by Randy. It was enjoyable in the extreme,
That was the last full day we had in Paris. That afternoon late we packed and loaded our luggage into the buses to be taken to the train station, where we were to take an overnight train to Venice, passing through Switzerland on the way. I was assigned to a compartment with five other guys, none of them my former Paris roomies. Once again we slept in our clothes and had a wakeful night, though seeing the Alps by moonlight as we passed through was a wonderful sight.
For the rest of that trip we were in Italy, going from Venice to Florence and finally Rome. I was assigned to different rooms with different roommates each time, but none of them were Charles or any of the Catholic school boys. From observing how the room assignments were made, it looked as if there had been a concerted effort by the faculty members to split up the ten of us who had had such a great time in Paris. Randy and Carey, as senior cadets, were always assigned to room with Bobby and Chip, probably in order to try to keep the younger guys' drug and alcohol use to a minimum. I did well with the new roommates I had each time, which included a few of the Jewish guys and some of the Californians and Midwesterners. Once again we shared shower times and were naked together, but there wasn't the same spirit of camaraderie and nothing sexual took place. I did notice that the Jewish guys all had penises that looked like mine, but I never put two and two together and realized that that meant I was circumcised. I was smart but I could be dense at times. No one among my new roommates expressed a desire to circle jerk or otherwise experience some sexual enjoyment, and I was definitely too shy and retiring to express such a desire myself. In fact, for the remaining two and half weeks of the trip I once again went through a period of no masturbation. Whether or not any of the other guys from the Paris room also went through such a period of restraint, I have no way of knowing since we never discussed the issue. Some of my other roommates may have jerked themselves off at night under the sheets of their beds or in other private locations like a bathroom stall, but if they did they kept it to themselves.
When the trip was at an end we flew back to New York from Rome, once again on a crowded chartered jet, and after going through Customs at JFK we said our good byes and promised to keep in touch. I did with some of them, girls and guys both. For me I actually flew on to Washington DC where I met my parents and sister who were making a vacation trip of their own. I was actually in the capital the night Nixon resigned, which was quite exciting.
It's been many years since that magical summer but I still rate it as one of the highlights of my life. I retained the roster with addresses of everyone who was on the trip and used it to refresh my memories over the years. With the magic of the Internet and some good research skills of my own I've actually been able to run down and locate some of the people I traveled with that summer. Of the ten of us who were in that Paris room and had such a good time eight are still living, Charles and Chip having passed on. The rest of us have gone on with our lives and done well, a couple spectacularly well, so much so that you might well recognize them if I told you any more about them, so I won't. I haven't gotten in contact with any of the other seven from that Paris room, preferring to leave well enough alone, but I treasure the memories of them, and I hope they remember me as well.